


Song of Laumė

by gnostic_heretic



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Trans Male Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-07-09
Packaged: 2019-06-08 00:20:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 968
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15231237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gnostic_heretic/pseuds/gnostic_heretic
Summary: Natalya could be that, if she wanted to.Her hardened heart hid so much more, so much more than others could see.Perhaps so much more than he could ever see, even, and so much more than she could ever know.





	Song of Laumė

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Pokytoad](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pokytoad/gifts).



> Based on a couple headcanons I posted the other day: Lithuania decides to get a shot at self-performed, ante litteram top surgery for safety and comfort and anxiety reasons as soon as he is forced to join the Russian Empire, and thankfully, Belarus is there to begrudgingly tend to his wounds, and to take care of him despite his brash decisions.

There is no comfort and no solace and no hope in the darkness.

Only waves, like a storm— waves that swallow him whole, that shove him left and right, hitting his lungs until they're bloody, briny, dry.

When he opens his eyes, he can see the sun. A warm pulse, warm light, the sound of a fire cracking nearby. And a stream, a stream of blond hair falling on his forehead, a face looking down on him. A warm hand on his neck.  
_Feliks—_  
He wants to call him, he wants to pull him closer and he wants to send him away, but he has no strength and no voice. His arms are limp at his side. All that comes out of his mouth is a cough, and blood.  
He can taste the iron, the horrible taste of death and life alike.  
"So you _are_ awake," a voice says. Familiar, yet unexpected.  
Finally, his eyes can focus on a face, the lineaments of the person sitting next to him.  
Natalya wipes his lips, a gentle touch, so unlike her.  
"Can you hear me? Can you speak?"  
He sure tries. After a few more coughs, a feeble _yes_ manages to crawl out of his throat.  
"I cleaned your wounds and put some stitches on them. And bandages over your chest. In a few days, if we are lucky and you're not too weak, you should be able to move your arms again," she says, her cold gaze staring into the hot flames of the fireplace. "You've lost so much blood, you'll probably faint soon enough. Again."  
"Thank you."  
"I also cleaned. The room. The _mess_. I don't think I'll forget the scene, or the smell of blood, any time soon. You owe me one."  
"I owe you two, Natalya. I owe you a thousand."

He has no idea how she even found him— however, he is not surprised she did.  
_We were always connected. We were always alike, in our difference. Did the Gods call you, Nata? Did they come to you in a dream?_  
In the dead cold night he had made his choice, making sure that everyone else was asleep. Biting his leather belt until his gums bled to not scream, to not wake anyone. He ponders, and the throbbing pain in his chest subdues when her hand touches him over the bloody bandages.  
Kind, her fingers move to his shoulder, cool against the heat of his pulse.Tender, soft... he knew that Natalya could be that, if she wanted to.  
Her hardened heart hid so much more, so much more than others could see.  
Perhaps so much more than he could ever see, even, and so much more than she could ever know.

"All I wonder," she says, and there's melancholy in her bitter voice, "all I wonder is _why_ , Tolya. I would have protected you, just like _he_ did."  
"I know."  
_I know, but I did not want to give you this burden._  
"I am stronger than you think."  
"I know."  
_I know, but you're also so, so fragile, Natalya, and I want to protect you. More than you know._  
"This is the stupidest thing you have done. Ever."  
"I know."

The whistle of the wind comes from the cracks in the windows, and the unforgiving Russian winter enters the room loudly, suddenly.  
Natalya stands up to revive the fire, now turned to an ember among coals.  
Tolys cannot sit, but he can still see her in the corner of his eyes, her delicate pale hands reddened by the flames. His chest is burning, throbbing.  
_How could I ever forget you?_  
So beautiful, Natalya, queen of the night, goddess among humans.  
The way her hair falls on her shoulders, the shape of her collarbone, the gentle and slight curve of her breasts that always, always managed to drive him mad...  
A sharp pain in his own chest sends makes the image of her blurry, dark— _ah, I remember when you would look at me in the same way— smile, and kiss my chest, and tell me it was alright. That it would be alright._  
Would Natalya ever be able to love him again? She had seen him now, flesh open and blood gushing and scars that probably would never heal.  
But then again, would anyone?  
Would _Feliks_ — would _Poland_ scream, turn away in disgust at the deep cracks on his chest?  
But why would he ever see them, anyway, and he wanted to chase away that thought, why now, why him of all people, the _bastard_ —his head is spinning now, the mirage of Poland's warmth next to him, his blond hair scattered on his chest, the frantic beating of his heart mixing with his own spiraling away into a frenzy, a nightmare. And then, it's almost darkness again.  
" _Nata_ ," he calls her as he feels his strength leaving him, and his voice dies in his throat, low as a whisper, "please. Please, sleep next to me..."  
She raises her head from the coals to look at him.  
Her eyes, icy blue eyes in the red of the fire.

Natalya does not speak.  
She has always been a woman of few words, after all, too far lost into her own world, beyond human comprehension, beyond anyone's imagination.  
Tolys had always wished to be a part of it, even just for a moment.

Natalya does not speak, but as he falls back into the darkness, the merciless storm, he feels her arm delicately posed on his stomach, the muffled sound of her breath close to him.  
He knows that now, he can be a part of that world, a much quieter place.  
And she will be the anchor that keeps him grounded. Much stronger than he could ever see. Much stronger than she could ever know.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to Pokytoad because her writing inspired me to give LietBela my very own shot. Hopefully I did it well! Thank you for always being awesome, and thank you to everyone who has read this!


End file.
